Cancer at 41 (2)

As I have continued through this journey, I think alot about how "cancer" has began to define me. This is especially true since I lost my hair. As silly and vain as it may sound, losing my hair has been the hardest part of all of this for me. I have opted to wear scarves and hats instead of wigs, so EVERYONE knows I have cancer. I just can't stand the feel of the wig on my head. Strangers comment on how beautiful I look and tell me stories of someone they know who has travelled this same path. It's amazing how many of us are out there. Although I know they mean well, it's still hard for me to accept it as a compliment. My self-image has been very affected by being bald. It isn't as bad as I thought it would be, though. My face still looks like me! (On a positive note, I don't have to shave anymore or do my hair. I can shower and be ready to walk out the door in 20 minutes or less.)

Chemotherapy has been nothing like I anticipated it would be. I thought I would have a few days living in the bathroom following chemo and then a few weeks of normalcy. I was terrified by how sick I thought I was going to be. That hasn't been my experience at all. The nausea is unpleasant but not unbearable. However, I am nauseated almost everyday. I battle with bowel issues and have developed sores on my head and very itchy skin. I had a few days with mouth and throat sores, but they didn't last long. My fingers on my right hand are becoming tingly and numb and I am freezing cold most of the time, except when I am having a hot flash and want to strip down to nothing! But again, I have to stress to those of you that are reading this, none of it is so awful that it can't be handled with a positive mindset, rest and medication. When people ask how I am doing, I tell them it just varies from day-to-day and usually hour-by-hour. I know that no matter how I feel at any given moment, it will pass as soon as I can do something to help myself. Obviously, I cannot medicate myself at work so gingerale and graham crackers have become a staple for nausea. I can't treat the pain until I get home from work, though.

My son told me the other day that he wished he could duplicate me so he could have "fun mom" back but still have the real me. I told him that I very much want "fun mom" back, too. And she will be! A few months from now, this will all be history and I will once again feel that I am defined by the person I am, not the illness I have.